


In which Yuuri gets a clue (or several)

by Sefiru



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Denial, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Prejudice, Puberty, Wet Dream, Yuuri gets a clue, misunderstanings, wolfram needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 05:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12599476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sefiru/pseuds/Sefiru
Summary: Half of Yuuri's problem was that his hormones hadn't caught up with him yet. The other half was a big scoop of denial. And then this happened...





	In which Yuuri gets a clue (or several)

**Author's Note:**

> This bit of fic has been sitting on my computer since 2008. Getting it ready for posting was weird, since I haven't watched any Kyou Kara Maou since then. I don't understand some of my own references now; I hope you do.

Yuuri stumbled over his own feet and fell down, narrowly avoiding the point of his practice sword. He cursed under his breath; he thought he’d been doing better at this, but all this week he’d been flailing around like a spastic monkey. He was even having trouble in baseball practice, and that never happened.

“Are you all right, Heika?” Conrad asked.

“I’m fine.” Yuuri’s voice cracked horribly on the second word, and he clapped his hand over his mouth in embarrassment. What was wrong with him?

Wolfram, who was watching from the practice ground fence, put in, “Even your throat’s clumsy today, wimp.”

“Don’t call me that,” Yuuri grumbled. He hauled himself sullenly to his feet. Conrad had that annoying sympathetic smile tacked on, the one that reminded Yuuri of his kindergarten teacher. _Don’t worry, widdle baby, it’s only a boo-boo_. He bit his lip to keep from scowling; it would be beyond rude to show such a face to one of his most loyal supporters. Even if said supporter sometimes made him want to throw crockery at his head.

 

***

Yuuri sat up in bed, embarrassed. His crotch was all sticky now; he’d heard about this happening, but this was the first time it had ever happened to him. He’d have to change into fresh pajamas now. Not to mention who he’d been dreaming about –

He looked over at his bedmate, hoping the demon was still asleep, only to find him not only awake but staring at him with tears standing in his wide green eyes. Tears? “Wolfram?” To his added mortification, his voice cracked again right in the middle of the word.

The golden-haired demon clenched his fists. “I can’t take this anymore!” he yelled, throwing himself against a very startled Yuuri’s chest. “It was bad enough thinking that you were just a clueless idiot, but knowing you have feelings for me somewhere in there and were too much of a wimp to tell me – why do you always push me away? Why do you act like you don’t care? Do you know. How. Much. That. Hurts?” His fist battered Yuuri’s shoulder with each word. “It hurts,” he continued in a whisper. “I’m not that strong, Yuuri.”

Yuuri gazed down at him in shock. He must have been talking in his sleep. The outburst was nothing new, but the words … he’d often seen Wolfram use his bluster to try to cover his natural kindness and compassion, usually unsuccessfully. But Wolfram was apparently much better at hiding the well of pain he carried with him. _So much pain_. He had wrapped his arms around Wolfram’s body without thinking, and he could feel the demon youth shaking. And Yuuri knew that his complaints were true; he was always pushing Wolfram away, always dismissing his feelings, always acting like – no other word for it – a jerk. This, towards a man who had given him nothing but loyalty, and who even at this moment was willing to admit weakness to him, which he would never so much as hint to anyone else. Yuuri could pretend it was all right when Wolfram acted like it didn’t bother him, but now he felt so angry at himself … so angry …

Wolfram flinched at the sudden burst of Maryoku beside him. Great. Somehow he’d managed to piss off Yuuri enough for his Maou persona to come out; any moment now he’d be pitched out of the royal chambers for being a bratty weakling and – a hand was stroking his hair. Huh? He glanced up. Yes, it was Yuuri’s hand; the Maou had a strange, sad smile on his lips. “Ssh, Wolfram, I am not angry at you.”

“Oh? Who are you angry at, then?” he asked sullenly.

“Myself.”

“Well, you should be.”

“I know.” The Maou turned him in his arms so that they could see each other’s faces. “A husband’s place is to guard the heart from harm. I have … acted unjustly.”

Wolfram blinked. Yuuri was angry at himself, angry enough to turn into the Maou, because he’d hurt him? His mood suddenly lifted. “Heh. Isn’t this the part where you yell Seimai and start throwing lightning at people?”

“I could, if you truly wish to be married to a crispy critter.”

Wolfram choked, first on the dignified Demon King referring to himself in such a manner, and at the thought that he might actually do it if he asked. What finally came out was, “you’ll still marry me? Even after – ”

Yuuri leaned closer. “It is my honor to be a shield for you, as you have often been for me. You need never fear to show weakness before me. Yes, I will still marry you, and I intend to start making up for my past actions.”

“Start making up?” They were nose to nose now.

“I don’t intend to ever stop.” And he touched their lips together. Wolfram twitched; a tingle spread over his cheeks and from there all the way through his body to his toes. For the first time in years his muscles completely relaxed, and he opened his mouth eagerly. A tongue wreathed with maryoku dipped inside, exploring, while he tentatively extended his own. For that moment, he forgot all his pain and longing, his bravado, his responsibilities. There was only the Maou.

A rough pounding on the door interrupted them. “Maou-Heika! What’s happening?”

Yuuri muttered a Terran curse word. Wolfram griped, “Your aura is just too damn conspicuous.”

“My apologies.” The Maou raised his voice. “There is no danger; please return to your posts.”

“Hai!”

Wolfram slumped back with a sigh. “That completely spoiled the mood. And you won’t remember any of this in the morning.” That had to be the most annoying thing, that Yuuri would go back to his usual wimpy self, not knowing what else he was capable of; it made him feel bad for the king, for once.

The Maou frowned. “That also is something that should be changed, now that it can be. This I promise, Wolfram; you will have what … you … deserve.” His body fell back against the pillows, his aura sputtering out. Wolfram pulled the blankets over them both with a snort. There was no guarantee, he told himself, that their situation would really improve. Though Yuuri in whichever form had always made good on his word …

***

Wolfram woke to sunlight streaming through the windows, which was unusual, and Yuuri still sleeping soundly beside him which was downright unheard of. He looked down at the black-haired king. Had he dreamed it? That Yuuri had had an erotic dream of him, that the Maou had promised to marry him? Perhaps it would be better if it was a dream, because if it wasn’t, and nothing came of it, he wasn’t sure if he could …

The form beside him stirred and opened his eyes. “Yuuri?” he whispered.

“Wolfram. It’s all right, I remember.” And Wolfram’s eyes went wide, because Yuuri spoke with his normal voice, but the tone was the Maou’s. His shoulders shook, his vision blurred, and then he was bawling in Yuuri’s arms for the second time in twelve hours. This wasn’t like him – no, it was unlike his public persona which he used to shield himself from the world. Right now Yuuri was his shield, and he wouldn’t call him weak or cowardly, tell him to pull himself together and stop wasting time, or pat him on the head and humor his childishness. No, his heart was safe here, as he’d always hoped it would be.

The tears came as a relief, and after a few minutes he had calmed down again. “Why did it take you so long?” he asked.

“All I’ve got are dumb excuses.”

“I still want to hear them. Wimp.”

Yuuri giggled; his voice cracked again in the middle of it. “I was scared of feeling this way. In my homeworld, it’s a big no-no for a man to like other men, even worse than mixed marriages here. I told myself I couldn’t have feelings for you, because I wasn’t that kind of person.” To his own surprise, Wolfram understood what Yuuri was trying to say. After all, for years he had vehemently denied that he had a mixed-blood brother. He wasn’t that kind of person. Yuuri continued, “I thought that since I wasn’t physically attracted to you, that what I felt for you couldn’t really be love. Well, that excuse went out the window last night.”

“That’s a long time to be in denial, and – hang on,did you just say what I think you said?”

“Yeah. I’m scared spitless, but I love you, Wolfram.”

He almost thought he was going to start crying again. But he recognized that this was his turn to stand guard over Yuuri’s heart, while the young king came to terms with being – what was that otherworld word? – “gay.” He had to admit that, if Yuuri had been a human, he would not have been able to accept his own feelings so readily. And all because Yuuri didn’t want him to hurt anymore. He had a sudden flash of insight that this was how a marriage should be: two hearts, back to back against the world. A strange light feeling flowed in its wake, and it took him a moment to label it as hope.

“Wolfram?” Yuuri was looking curiously at him.

“Huh. This is the least wimpy I’ve ever seen you.”

“You really think so? I guess just remembering being the Maou lets me act more confident.” It did; Wolfram could hear the added firmness in his voice, and see the strength of will in his eyes.

“Well, I guess it will be nice if you’re not so wimpy all the time.”

Yuuri gave him a teasing smile “I promise I’ll still be wimpy now and then, just for you.”

Wolfram unaccountably blushed. He opened and closed his mouth, and finally said, “We should go get breakfast.”

“Yeah.” They washed and dressed with a sense of skewed normality, as though this was an ordinary morning. Yuuri was in his usual black outfit, and Wolfram in a ruffled blouse and blue tunic. They stood in front of the door and looked at each other. “Time to face the music,” Yuuri said. “I bet Gwendal demands to know what intruders got into my room.”

“I’ll bet he accuses me of treason,” Wolfram retorted.

“Okay, if you lose, you have to do baseball practice this afternoon.”

“And if you lose, you have to take a bath with me.”

Not that he would mind, Yuuri thought with a slight blush. He unlocked the door and stepped out. The guards outside looked twitchy, not a surprise after last night’s disturbance. Yuuri nodded at them cheerfully, and they relaxed when they saw he was unharmed; by the time they arrived at Gwendal’s office, the whole palace probably knew that whatever had happened, their king was not in danger. And then they stepped inside:

“Heika,” Conrad greeted them with a close-lipped smile.

“Heika!!” Gunther glomped Yuuri, his eyes wide and melting (Wolfram was fairly sure he was using his air element to get that sparkle). “I feared something unspeakable had befallen you, Heika!! Words cannot express my joy at seeing you safe!!”

“Heika.” Gwendal rose from his chair and stepped around the desk. He went down on one knee. “I most humbly apologize for whatever actions of my brother have incurred your wrath, and I will gladly accept any punishment in his place.”

“Gwendal! I didn’t do anything!” Wolfram didn’t know whether to feel insulted or flattered. Or just happy about the bath he was going to take with Yuuri.

“Gwendal,” Yuuri’s voice cracked and the rest came out in the Maou’s deeper voice, “Stand up. Nobody is going to be punished.” Gwendal did a double take, and then another on seeing that Yuuri hadn’t actually transformed. And he stood up. Yuuri went on, “I know you’re wondering what happened. It looks like another aspect of my power appeared; when I woke up this morning I could remember what happened during all of my transformations. That includes how to control my power, so there should be less trouble with that in the future.” It was obviously true; Yuuri, in his normal form, was speaking in the Maou’s assertive tone but without his melodrama. And his voice cracked and changed from one to the other every sentence or so. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with Gunther about a few things.”

“Heika,” Wolfram’s brothers bowed and turned to leave. Conrad looked bemused, but Gwendal looked like he’d bitten something sour. Perhaps he didn’t appreciate a Maou that wasn’t so easily led …

“Oh, and Gwendal. That time at the Houseki mines – thanks for stopping me.”

“Hn.” Now Gwendal looked bemused too. He’d get used to it. The door closed behind them, leaving the two young men in the office with Gunther.

“What did you wish to discuss, Heika?!” the white-haired demon sang out. “I shall gladly render any assistance you desire!!”

“I want to set a date.”

“Are you serious?” Wolfram exclaimed.

“Of course I am. It’s not fair for me to keep you waiting any longer. And I guess – ” He ducked his head shyly, “I guess I’m looking forward to it too.”

Another blush heated his cheeks for no apparent reason. “It’s about frickin’ time,” he huffed. “And I’m NOT wearing a dress.”


End file.
